


All Purpose Spray

by Immortalsane



Category: Futurama
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Femdom, Genderfuck, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Public Sex, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24369343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortalsane/pseuds/Immortalsane
Summary: After Fry's clothes get mangled by a hungry alien whatchamacallit one time too many Fry remembers that clothes  come in a can these days. And once he gets the idea, his secret pleasures start to become way, way more accessible...
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	All Purpose Spray

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tech that appears twice: in "When Aliens Attack" (1ACV12) and "Roswell That Ends Well" (3ACV19), a can that sprays on clothing. Written for myself, may or may not continue.

Fry grumbled as he stalked down the ship’s ramp, struggling to hold some scrap of dignity among the scraps of his clothes. 

“I told you not to go near that Anrgry Orchid,” Leela chided as she walked behind him, discreetly checking out his butt as it hung out of the remains of his underwear. She’d never admit it, but while Fry’s tendency to end up halfway down the throat of random monsters was frustrating, the fact that he also ended up mostly nude and slick with slime was a huge plus to the whole thing. Something about his soft body covered in slime just...did it for her. Chalk it up to her mutant heritage, maybe. 

“You’re just lucky I spotted it’s gut spots in time to-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fry muttered, stalking to his locker. “Stupid future full of stupid man-eating plants.”

Leela rolled her eye as he stripped off, dropping the ruined clothes into the bin. The reconstituter would patch and put them back together in a few days, ensuring his precious lucky pants and jacket would be ready to go soon enough. 

Fry pulled his locker open and stared into it. 

“Bender, did you sell my clothes again?” he called, rifling through the piles of stuff he’d haphazardly jammed into the locker.

“Nah, the fence has a three strikes policy,” Bender called back as he cranked the faucet to boiling and started rinsing off. “You steal it back three times, they stop paying you for it.”

Fry sighed and flicked aside a few more things. “But...I don’t have any clothes!”

Leela blinked. “Fry, how much actual clothing do you have?”

He paused. “Two jackets, three shirts, one pair of pants, two pairs of shoes, three pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear. Why?”

“Ah.” Leela started ticking things off. “Space amoeba that sucked off your spacesuit and shirt Monday, Horrible Gelatinous Blob gulped you down as a thank you for delivering his matrix stabilizer Tuesday and digested your shirt, jacket, shoes, socks, and underwear.”

Fry nodded. “Yeah, I threw my pants out of him to save them before he got started on my skin.”

Leela sighed. “Yeah, you did. And today, you got eaten by an orchid, so that’s your other jacket, last shirt, underwear, a pair of socks, your last pair of shoes, and your pants. If I’ve got this right, you have a pair of socks left somewhere.”

Fry held them up silently, covered in something sticky. “Nope. Spilled a Slurm in my locker, it’s eating through them.” He sighed and tossed the ragged garments into the reconstituter. “Why does everything want to eat me?”

Leela shrugged. “No idea. So you just gonna go nude this week?”

“No,” Fry said with a sigh. “That’s nothing but trouble.”

“I mean, it’s not illegal or anythin-”

Fry eyed her. “Not if you’re hot enough. I get ugly fined about half the time I walk around without clothes.”

“Well, if you’d stay out of the Designated Pretty Areas-”

Fry snorted and slammed his locker, stepping under the shower to wash off the slime. “Sure, I could, but since the signs that mark them are in Beautyglot, it’s not like I can  _ read them _ .”

Leela rolled her eye as she started stripping off herself. “It’s not that difficult-”

Fry snorted. “For  _ you _ , but you’re gorgeous.”

Leela blushed. “Oh. I mean. I only speak a little…”

“Well, yeah, have you seen those people? They’re freaks of plastic surgery!”

“Someone say plastic surgery?” Amy asked as she popped in. “Oh, group shower! Move over!”

Fry stepped sideways, watching as Amy threw off her sweat suit to join them. 

“Now, what about plastic surgery?”

Leela closed her eye a moment. “You know, I don’t know how we got there…”

Fry shrugged. “Me, no clothes, naked, DPA’s, beautyglot-”

Amy chuckled. “Ohhhh. Yeah, you gotta have a certain level of plastic to really  _ get _ beautyglot.”

“There we go,” Leela said, nodding. 

Fry glanced at Amy, grinning a little. “Hey Amy, how come you don’t live in a DPA?”

Amy snorted. “I’m naturally cute.” 

“So?”

Amy shrugged. “Why would i want to live around all those people who have all that work done to be as cute as me? I’d rather hang out with normies and be the cutest thing around.” She glanced at her mutant coworker. “No offense.”

Leela rolled her eye. “So anyway, if you’re not gonna be naked, Fry, does that mean you’re finally going to pick up some decent clothes?”

Fry growled. “I like  _ my _ clothes.”

Amy poked her head out of the shower. “Your clothes are currently a glop of reconstitute.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fry sighed. He stared at the wall a moment. “Hey, don’t we have those clothes in a can things?”

Leela blinked and looked at him. “Fry, that’s actually smart. Are you feeling ok?”

~

Fry grabbed a can and flipped it around, hunting the controls. Spray cans with controls had been one of the things he’d had to get used to, so he knew there had to be some. Amy grinned as she stepped past him, grabbing a can with a hot pink cap. She pulled it off and Fry watched as she sprayed on a new sweatsuit. 

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Are all your clothes like that?”

“Uh-huh, why?”

Fry looked at the can. Pricepoint, $5.99, right on the can. “Aren’t you a gazillionaire?”

“Yep.”

“But...why?”

Amy shrugged. “It annoys my mom that I look cheap all the time. So I wear the cheapest stuff there is. Disposable clothes in a can.”

Fry stared at the can. “Huh. So, how do I use this stuff?”

Amy grabbed the can and it lit up. “Oops, this one’s mine.” She grinned. “They can only be used by one person.”

She hummed and hunted through her locker, then tossed Fry a can with an unbroken seal and a rainbow cap. 

“Rainbow?”

“Multicolor. Unless you want pink?”

Fry bit his lip on an impulse to try that. “No, no, this is fine.”

“K. Thumb on the top, break the seal-”

Fry did so and the can pulsed before going quiet. “Ok…”

“Now just think of what you want and spray!”

Fry hesitated. He’d used it before, once, but the professor had just said it was a can of uniform. “Um. Ok.”

He pictured his normal clothes and began spraying. His face spread into a grin as he watched his clothes appear, and a second later he was dressed as he always was. He pulled the jacket off, checking it over, then the pants…

“Wow. It’s just like the real thing!”

Amy blinked and reached out to touch his jacket. “Huh. Guess your regular clothes are already made of cheap stuff, so it’s pretty much perfect.”

“Hey!”

~

Fry hummed as he stepped into his room, stripping off and relaxing in his nudity. He stepped to the window, reveling in being naked out in the open. No-one cared, of course, but the feeling of being seen was nice, particularly as he waved to a passing truck driver, who casually waved back. Smiling and turning away to hide the half a chub that gave him, he gathered up the clothes he’d worn and dumped them into the disposal bin.

His actual, real clothing was tucked away in his closet for safekeeping to be worn on his days off, and he’d stocked up on several cans of the All Purpose Spray. Each one seemed to be able to do 14 outfits, so in the last month he’d used three cans, a can more than most people due to constant need to just toss the ruined ones and spray on another set. Still, it was cheaper than the professor docking him for reconstitute, and he hadn’t had to ride home half naked in a month! Plus, aliens seemed less interested in eating him now that he was covered in whatever the Spray was made of. 

He eyed the bin, considering. The clothes broke down after 24 hours into a sort of paste that rapidly hardened into a gritty stuff like cat litter, but plasticy. The company bought it back, but he never seemed to get around to it before Bender did. He judged it to be empty enough to not bother until Bender came back from hiding from the Mafia again, and flopped on his bed. A glance at Bender’s bed made him sigh. 

“Bored,” he muttered, missing his friend. He could practice his holophonor some more, or maybe go out somewhere...uggggh. Bender would have an idea of something fun he could do. What could he do without Bender around anyway-

His eyes fell on the bin again and he frowned as an idea wormed its way into his brain. After the handful of times Bender had caught him (once with X-Ray Glasses, the others just by being nosy) playing with his very, very small collection of funderwear, he’d gotten rid of them. But...he hadn’t worn any real clothes in a month...and he could spray them on, bury them in the bin...and they’d be gone, forever. Or even just use up a use of the can to dissolve the clothes entirely, he’d done that twice, and Amy did it all the time. 

No muss, no fuss, no evidence.

He shivered and sat up, pulling up some images on his eyePhone to get an idea. They were kinda pricy, but...it wasn’t like he was going to  _ buy _ them.

A can in hand, newly activated, and he stared at the slowly rotating hologram, fixing the image as best he could. 

_ Pssssssht _ .

Two minutes later, he was staring at himself in the mirror, licking his lips. He was wearing a pretty, gauzy white teddy with no bra, white thong underwear that were magically just right to emphasize and show off his cock and balls while still making them seem...cute, somehow, and a pair of heels that were four inches (the highest he’d ever managed without falling over) that were held on by gently crisscrossing ribbons that wound up his legs to end in pretty white bows on his thighs. He shivered and turned back and forth, admiring his ass hanging out, pert from the heels. From the neck down, he looked...almost pretty. 

He glanced at the mirror, then at the can, and licked his lips. “I...wonder…”

Two abortive tries later, he’d failed to accessorize further and dropped the can with a growl. 

He jumped as it projected a little hologram. “ _ Hey, friend, seems like you’re trying to use All Purpose Spray Clothes for hair, makeup, and jewelry!” _

Fry gulped. “Um.”

“ _ Why not try the better solution? Order a can of All Purpose Spray Accessories and All Purpose Spray Body instead!” _

Fry blinked. “Oh. yeah, that’d be neat-”

“ _ Great! Your location has been tagged and your card charged! Delivery by pneumatube in three seconds!” _

The hologram blinked off and Fry stared at it dumbly for a second before the  _ thump-thump _ of the delivery hitting the far wall of the living room announced it. He walked out, mincing in the heels, and picked both up, saying a small prayer of thanks for the pillow he’d nailed to the wall for that very eventuality. Well, that Leela had nailed to the wall, anyway.

He took them in the bedroom and broke the seals, then-

_ Psssssht. _

He licked his lips, the plasticy taste of the spray on them making him shiver. He now had plump, pretty white lips, cute eye makeup, finger and toenails in white french tips, and his flame red hair was covered in an All Purpose Spray up do in his natural hair color that looked feminine and elegant, the little curls falling down to frame his face. He’d seen Leela wear her hair this way a few times, and it always looked great on her. Now he knew it looked great on him. 

White from the neck down, hot red hair, his pale skin looking appropriate for once with his look...

He shivered and turned back and forth, smiling slowly. He still looked like a soft, slightly chubby guy, but...a pretty, soft, slightly chubby guy. Girly, but with his now-raging erection in his thong, clearly androgynous. He giggled a bit and grabbed the accessories can, adding a pearl necklace, earrings, anklet, and scrunchie to his look. He shivered and sat on the edge of his bed, pulling his cock out and giving it a few strokes, admiring himself. After a second, he started posing, a sort of foggy ease and heat rolling over him as he watched himself in the mirror.

Bent over so his ass showed, looking back past his legs...sitting down, cock tucked away, knees together...legs spread slightly, cock out, leaning back on his hands….laying back and holding his legs up, ankles crossed and toes pointed...same with his cock tucked between his legs so that he could see them framed by his thighs in the mirror...and then same, but pulling his thong aside to show off his hole…

He shivered, sitting up, running his hands over his chest. Pity he didn’t have...boobs…

Fry eyed the Body can. No. Could it?

He pulled off the teddy and buried it in the bin, then grabbed the body can. Staring at himself in the mirror-

_ Pssssht _ .

His breathing sped up as he stared at a pair of tits, in his skin color, broad areolae, perky nipples. He ran his hands over them and gasped. He could  _ feel _ them!

“Wow,” he whispered. He quickly sprayed on another teddy and then returned to the mirror. He licked his lips, shivering. 

Far more girly now. A girl with a raging five inch erection, but a girl. He shuddered and grabbed the Spray again, then ran it over himself. Everything went away, falling down to congeal. He quickly gathered up the glop and dropped it in the bin before it hardened and started breaking up. He grabbed the Body can, staring at himself in the mirror. 

He’d never had much body hair. Tight little curls over his groin and balls, under his arms, but beyond that, he was pretty smooth. He blew out a breath and sprayed the Body can.

Fry twirled slowly, laughing softly. He’d given himself hips, tits, a waist, and tucked his belly just a little. His ass was much thicker now, and he was hairless except for a little triangle patch over his groin. He’d left his cock alone, although the thought that he could probably make it bigger with the spray was a heady one. 

His hair was effortlessly stylish, down to the middle of his back in waves of loose ringlets, the fiery orange hair tempered with auburn now, like his brother Yancy, and his eyebrows matched. His makeup was more understated than stripper, and he looked…

“Hot,” he whispered, admiring himself. 

For a fleeting instant, a thought chased that, but he brushed it away. He’d decided long ago that he didn’t really mind being a dude. He liked his dick, even if he sometimes got remarks on the size, and he liked his body ok. He even liked being considered male, the few times he’d been mistaken for a girl growing up and called  _ she _ had made him uncomfortable in the extreme. And yeah, he kinda liked guys a little, but he liked girls more, and while the idea of being a lesbian was appealing, it didn’t feel like him.

But he  _ loved _ being pretty. And now, staring in the mirror, the wonder of cheap 31st century spray clothing meant that he could be pretty anytime.

Still, he wished someone was here to see this, that anyone he knew would appreciate this. He really, really would love to get laid this way. He doubted Leela would be down to do him this way. Amy almost  _ definitely _ would, and if he hadn’t freaked out on her the one time they’d dated, he might have worked up the courage to try it. 

Granted, that had been  _ part _ of why he’d freaked out. Spending a week on her shoulder feeling her body as his own had been a heady, weird experience that had only settled things for him: tits he wanted, curves he liked having, but he wasn’t a girl. He’d been a tad curious about a cunt, but the thought of trying that with Amy’s body and a big, dumb banking regulator had been right out. But with Amy herself? Looking pretty and soft? That might have been fun. 

He sighed and stepped forward, reaching for the can to dissolve it, when his hand froze. 

Bender was gone for a week at least. 

Leela and he had been on a break for going on a month now, and since he’d attempted to fix that just a couple of days ago, he probably had another month before she cooled off. How was he supposed to know the “Joy Buzzer” cards gave the recipient violent orgasms the moment they opened them? Or that they reacted way, way too well to mutants? Not his fault he’d given her a card that had laid her out in the middle of flying through the Spleef Nebula and almost gotten them assimilated by brain slugs…

He shook his head. No, don’t think about that, stay on track. The point was, he had a week with no Bender, a month or so before Leela considered dating him again...and he was super pretty...and it was Saturday night…

Fry stared at the mirror. Could he do this? He’d need to make sure that...yeah…

~

Fry stepped into the line at the club, shivering a little. It wasn’t cold, New New York summer nights were in the mid seventies, but the audacity of what he was doing made his stomach churn. He’d dolled up, but taken the precaution of making damn sure anyone that looked at him could see he was packing something extra. He wore a variation on his earlier outfit, the heels tied up his legs in black, the thong leaving no doubt as to what he had to offer there, and his spray on tits barely covered by a crop top that read  _ Daddy’s Boy _ across his pert nipples in plain white letters. 

His hair was up in a pony tail and changed to candy apple red, with a big black bow to match the ones on his thighs, and the one that was on the side of his neck attached to the black ribbon choker. The choker both smoothed over his Adam’s apple and gave him a sluttier look, in his opinion. It also had the convenient side effect of covering the only thing on his body that wasn’t sprayed on, a tiny node that changed his voice, tossing it up half an octave and making it smokier, giving him an extra layer of concealment. He had ribbon gauntlets that matched his shoes, tied off to simple plastic black rings on his ring fingers, leaving his hands unencumbered, but giving him more black ribbon and a pair of bows on his biceps. 

After a bit of experimentation, he’d decided to change his appearance a little more just to be sure, adding piercings at his ears, nose, nipples, belly button, and the head of his cock, all basic steel with little crystals. A smoky eye and black lipstick and nails made his pale skin stand out, and gave him the soft goth slut look he’d decided was the perfect look of the evening. 

He blushed as a few people in the line gave him admiring glances, and blushed harder as he felt ghostly hands brush his ass. He’d plumped that a bit, so it ate his thong, leaving both chunky cheeks on display entirely, and even as his cock twitched and throbbed in his thong, he had to remind himself not to freak out. He wanted to be seen, touched, that was why he was here in this insanely hot getup.

He felt hot, if nervous, and he was hoping that he wouldn’t get laughed out of the club.

“You.”

His head snapped around to see the bouncer, a massive alien with green scales and a broad lipless mouth, some kind of lizardoid, staring him up and down. 

“M-Me?”

The bouncer nodded. “You don’t wait in line.”

Fry’s jaw dropped slightly. “I don’t?”

The bouncer smiled and his tongue flicked out lasciviously. “No, cutie, you don’t. You want in or not?”

Fry shivered and stepped out of the line, blushing as the guy put a hand on his waist, squeezing his all natural love handle as he was guided up to the door. “B-But-”

The bouncer chuckled and leaned down. “Boys like you don’t wait in line, hot stuff.”

Fry shivered as the bouncer opened the door and pushed him in, copping a feel of his ass as he did. Fry stood inside the club he’d chosen, blushing as he looked around, head spinning at the idea that he didn’t have to wait in line, that he was one of the cute people that got in instantly. 

It was a normal 31st century club, not the hottest or the most trendy, but there were multiple floating platforms for dancing, a scattering of booths and tables, and a big central bar in the middle. It was, unlike a lot of 31st century clubs, dark, with flowing fields of UV light drifting though the air like luminescent clouds, swirling among and over the dancers, creating weird effects, and lighting the dance floors haphazardly. The floor had little glowing flecks in it, as did the walls, and combined with the UV clouds, it gave the impression of being in a nebula. The main reason he’d chosen this club was that it played the kind of music he liked, throwbacks to his own time, and stylings based on those. And, of course, he was pretty sure no-one he knew would be caught dead in a classical music dance club.

He stepped up to the bar, and grinned as the iZac behind it rolled over to him. 

“What can I getcha, hotness?”

Fry licked his lips. “Something sweet?”

iZac laughed. “You got it.”

A moment later, there was a tall glass of something glowing, fruity, and fizzy in front of him. He reached for his wallet and iZac chuckled. “That one’s on him.”

Fry blinked and squinted across the bar. A tall man, hidden by the darkness, waved casually, and Fry raised the drink, blushing. He took a sip, and grinned as the alcohol hit him like a hammer. 

“Mmmm,” he murmured, taking another. He jumped as a hand slid around his waist, and looked up to find the guy that had bought the drink, or at least, when he looked back where the guy had been before, there was no-one there. He was tall, taller than Fry in three inch heels, and slimly built, but under the casual sleeveless tunic he wore there was a lot of muscle and plenty of tats. In the UV light, Fry couldn’t tell his hair color other than dark, but he had a broad, easy face, and a slick smile that made the young man’s stomach twist excitedly.

“Hey, cutie. You like daddies?”

Fry blushed. “I, um, yeah?”

The man chuckled and Fry squeaked as a hand slid over his ass, squeezing and massaging it. “Oh, sprayboy?”

Fry blinked. “I...what?”

The man’s hands wandered and Fry gasped as he was groped on the hips, thighs, ass, and finally, a hand sliding up under his shirt to cup his breast. “All Purpose Spray, yeah? You’re covered in it.”

Fry shivered, and his face flamed. “Yeah, I am,” he said softly. 

The man smiled and nuzzled his neck, sending runners of excitement through Fry in conjunction with the hands still squeezing and feeling him up. “That’s hot,” the man murmured. “I like a boy or girl that’s cheap and and covered in plastic.”

Fry gasped as a hand closed over his cock, right through his thong. It squeezed gently and he moaned. 

“Oh, but this is all you, isn’t it? Covered yourself in spray, but left your little cock untouched so everyone could see how you want it.”

Fry fought down an instinctive urge to defend his manhood as it hit him that the guy was right. He liked that he was smaller, and he  _ had _ been hoping to be a little...manhandled, tonight. He’d seen 31st century dicks, and unless he played more aggressively, which wasn’t his style, he was definitely gonna get pegged as a bottom. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, learning into the man. 

“You a pro?” The man murmured softly in his ear.

“Uh-uh,” Fry said, face flaming at the thought that the guy considered him hot enough to be paid for sex. 

“So the question is, are you a one drink slut, or do I need to pour a few more into you?”

As pickup lines go, it left a lot to be desired. But Fry had never been a subtle man, and it worked for him. He took another sip of his drink and set it down, shivering. “I don’t think I even need the one.”

Two minutes later, he was on the highest dance floor, the bench by the railing dark and hidden at least for now. Well, dance floor might be inaccurate as, when the lights swept over the people here, he could see guys and girls masturbating, and couples, threesomes, and more complex maneuvers happening around them. He blinked as the guy pulled him down onto his lap, and ran a hand up his front, pushing his crop top up to expose his fake breasts. Fry blushed as several guys and girls appreciated the view, openly staring at him and touching themselves. 

His date, for lack of a better word, ground up against his ass, and Fry moaned as he felt a thick cock pressing between his cheeks. The guy’s tunic had ridden up, and he clearly wasn’t wearing anything under it. The slick, weeping cock slid between the plastic enhanced cheeks and pressed his thong into his crack, stroking and teasing him. 

“You want a stuffing or a sucker, cutie?”

Fry shivered. “Huh?”

The man laughed and nibbled his ear. “Either you’re playing dumb, or really dumb.”

Fry blushed. “Oh, no, I’m um. I’m really, really dumb.”

The man snorted and gave his nipples a tweak. “Even hotter. You should go blond next time, then guys will know not to expect brains from you.”

Fry licked his lips, nodding. “Yeah, that’d be smart, huh?”

His date laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess it would. So, you want me to fuck your ass,” he said softly, pressing his cock more urgently into Fry’s ass, and then reaching up to stroke his lips, a finger sliding into his mouth, “or your face?”

Fry moaned and sucked his fingers lightly, tasting cigarettes and alcohol. “Ummm...I don’ know,” he said, slurring around them. 

“Course you don’t,” the man said, his voice husky. “How about I take the lead?”

“Yeff, pleaf,” Fry said softly. 

He yelped as the man pushed him up, spinning him around, and pulled him back down...face aimed right at a cock that was, by modern standards, average. Looked maybe like eight inches. By his standards, it was massive, and he had barely a second to suck in a breath before it was planted in his mouth. 

Now, for all his attempts to pass as straight, Fry’d lost his boy v-card long before his girl v-card. He’d been mistaken for a girl a few times as a kid, and boys had been happy to carry that mistake forward. So he had at least enough experience with cocks to figure this out. 

His date stared at him, the edge of a UV cloud illuminating them ever so slightly, as he watched this pretty, dumb, shy boy swallow his cock half way down like it was nothing. He shuddered, grabbing the kid’s ponytail, and started slowly fucking his face. 

Fry moaned, eyes drifting half closed. He liked girls better. He’d been telling himself that for years. He’d been working on that line, that he wasn’t really that into cock, or dating strong, rough guys, or...any of that. 

He swallowed more cock and revised that opinion rapidly. He’d  _ missed _ having a cock down his throat. He gargled it, looking up at the guy as best he could while his ponytail was used as a handle, working to get a treat. 

The man reached down and stroked his face, shivering. “Fuck. You look so goddamn hot down there.”

Fry blushed and shyly reached up to play with his own breasts, marveling again at how real and easy they felt. He’d had the real thing once, and these were damn near as good. The weird plastic sensation, the slight feeling of fakeness in the heft of them and in the sensations his brain was getting from them, just made it better somehow. 

The man fucked his throat until his nose touched down on a shaved groin, and then he was pulled back, licking his lips, drooling a little. 

“Wonderful throat,” the guy said as he pulled Fry up by his hair, making him moan again. “But I’d like the main course now.”

Fry stared at him quizzically until he was turned in place. He felt a hand pulling his thong aside, and got it a second before he was pulled back.

“Fuck!” he hissed, shaking at the slow burn of entry. The head ridged over his hole, and he squirmed, then blinked as it suddenly slid easier. An inch at a time, it fucked into him, slide in, out, in, out, deeper and deeper, one thrust burn, withdraw, then again, then slide deeper smoothly…

“Oh, yeah,” the guy murmured as Fry sat all the way down, panting and shivering. “I like fucking boys, so I got a nice little lube mod in my balls. Makes the fuck a lot smoother.”

Fry nodded, groaning as he stared at his guts. It felt like he should be able to see it against his stomach, like it was in his throat. “Yeah,” he said softly, rocking his hips a little. 

But it seemed his date didn’t want him to do anything but be tight and cute. Hands slid under his thighs, and Fry gasped as he was spread open, held up and on display for anyone to see. He blushed furiously as the guy started fucking him like a sex doll, lifting and moving and manhandling him easily. He was shaking, reaching back to hold onto the man, just settling into the best fuck he’d ever had. The other partners growing up had been boys who just humped like puppies and shot, and one man that fucked him like he hated him. This man knew how to  _ fuck _ , and was taking his time getting the most out of it for both of them. 

“Oh, god, yes,” Fry whispered, his eyes drifting closed as he rolled his hips the best he could. 

It seemed to happen in a dream. The sounds of the music washing over him, post-neo-wave trap pulsing hypnotically, the lyrics in some alien language that was guttural and repetitive to his ears, the sounds under the music of sex near him, the sound of his ass sliding wetly, the feeling of the cock plundering him, strong hands holding him safe and still, the dark with flashes of strange light…

His eyes snapped open as he realized he was lit up, the UV cloud showcasing him to everyone on the platform. His body was curled up in half, being held up by a man as a cock stabbed into his ass for all to see. At some point, the guy had pulled his thong aside in the front too, exposing his leaking, pulsing cock to the warm club air, and the view of the onlookers, so they could all see how much he loved this. There were men and women watching him intently, getting off on seeing him fucked, and he whined softly, half wanting to hide, half eager to be seen. The circle jerks of boys with him as the soggy cracker growing up had been unpleasant only for the humiliation factor. Being the center of attention in a horny room was the part he’d always wished to reclaim. 

Fry whined again as the man realized they were lit and started pounding more firmly, lifting, dropping, stroking Fry’s g-spot expertly. Fry panted and clutched at him, whimpering, face starting to tense and screw up as he watched the people watching him. 

“I’m gonna lose it,” he whispered, shaking all over.

“Do it,” The man growled, sucking on his neck. 

Fry grunted, eyes rolling back, as his cock pulsed, spraying out a respectable arc from his body without being touched almost at all the entire evening. It pattered onto the threesome six feet away, and they laughed softly, rubbing his jizz into their skin almost without noticing. The rest of it splatted onto the floor between him and them, and the final dribbles slid out of his cock to run down onto his balls. 

His date chuckled and kept going, and Fry’s head fell back. “F-Fuck,” he whispered. 

“Oh, yeah. You’ll be doing that again at least once before I do.”

Fry whimpered as the man set up an almost brutal pace. This, this was closer to the loveless, careless, inexpert sex he thought of when he thought of men. But also...not. The man closed Fry’s legs, holding them up with one arm, while his other hand ran over the young man’s body, teasing, caressing, appreciating. His lips were wandering over Fry’s neck, shoulders, and ears, soft murmurs of obscenity and delight filling Fry’s mind. If the guy had just stabbed it in and banged, Fry might have called it off, but the only thing this had in common with the sex he’d grown up with was the pace. 

He crossed his ankles, and raised them a little, his cock between his legs on display, barely softening, being stroked by his own thighs as the man fucked him, and he realized with shock that the guy was right. He hadn’t gone twice in an hour since he was 14, but it looked like the key to it was getting fucked really, really well. 

Fry stared out at the dance floor, eyes half closed, as he felt his orgasm rising higher and higher, closer and closer. 

“Almost there,” his date whispered. “You...mind?”

Fry licked his lips. “What?”

The man laughed, voice strained. “Can I shoot in you?”

“God, yes,” Fry said, shaking at the thought. He’d hated the guys coming in him as a teen, it had been a mark of humiliation. This, here, now? He wanted that culmination, wanted to feel the proof of his hotness running down his leg. 

The man groaned and sped up, and Fry felt his own cock starting to twitch as his balls drew up. He stared drunkenly at the dance floor, and the lights whirled over the threesome in font of him. 

As his cock spurted helplessly, and the cock in his ass shot deep into him, Fry stared in shock at Amy and Kif banging some girl. Amy was in the middle, and Kif was plowing her ass, while the girl slammed into her pussy with a strap on. Some part of Fry’s brain registered that the position Kif was in would have snapped a humans bones, his arms and legs like a version of twister played on other bodies, and from the brief glimpses, he was well equipped for the job of making Amy squeal. 

Fry locked eyes with Amy, as he shot again, harder than he had before, both of the first two pulses splatting against Amy’s face, breasts, and down the side of the girl pounding her, some little goth chick that looked to be in heaven. Amy smiled happily, reaching back to pull Kif against her harder as she rocked between the two thick intruders stretching her out. 

His date chuckled and stroked his thighs, letting him down to sit evenly on his lap. Fry was shaking, and trying to get up the guts to leave, waiting for Amy to stop looking at him. 

“Hey?” The man said softly, wrapping his arms around him. “You ok?”

Fry swallowed. “I...I know her,” he said softly.

The man looked past him. “Oh, Amy? You meet her at another club?”

Fry shook his head. “I work with her.”

He covered his mouth as he realized what he’d just said, but the man just stroked his arms soothingly. 

“She doesn’t know this you?”

Fry shook his head. 

“Ok. It’s ok. Come on.”

Fry blinked as he was helped up, his thong tucked back into place, and hands steadied him off the platform and down to a dark corner of the bar. A beer appeared in front of him, a solid lager, and he took a gulp of it, trying to stop shaking. 

“Hey,” the man said, rubbing his arm. 

Fry licked his lips and took another gulp. “I, um. I should...go…”

The man nodded. “That’s fair. Need someone to walk you home?”

Fry blinked. “Why are you being so nice to me?” he blurted out.

The man snorted with laughter. “Well, you’re cute. Sweet. I like plastic.” He leaned forward and ran his thumb over Fry’s lower lip. “And the dumb is attractive.”

Fry blushed. “Not for very long, I get really annoying after a while.”

The man chuckled and leaned in, and Fry shivered as he was gently kissed. “I’d be interested in testing that.”

Fry licked his lips. “Um. Oh.”

“Just a feeling, mostly,” the man said softly. “So, walk hom-”

“Hey, Larry!”

Fry’s stomach dropped into his heels.

“Hey, Amy,” Larry said calmly, turning and putting an arm around Fry. 

Amy was dressed, for certain values of it, in a pair of neon suspenders, booty shorts, and a pair of clear plastic platform heels. Her makeup was neon as well, glowing under the lights against her bronzed skin. The lights also highlighted the splatters of cum she was wearing openly. The goth girl wasn’t wearing much more, a miniskirt with her strapon poking out from under it, and and a pair of pasties that said  _ Fuck  _ and  _ You,  _ with flat stompy ankle boots. And completing the set, Kif wearing a cod piece, chest harness, and his uniform boots and gloves, all in white. Fry licked his lips as it suddenly struck him that all the people who’d told him Kif was wildly attractive were right.

Amy leaned on the table, accepting a beer from a passing go-go girl, and grinned. “Who’s the hot sprayboy?”

Larry smiled. “Don’t know that I caught a name, honestly.”

Fry’s mind whirled and he spat out the first name that came to mind. “Fry.”

He froze as Amy and Kif’s faces went through a number of emotions, and Larry sighed. “That was your name, wasn’t it?”

Fry nodded, covering his face. 

Larry chuckled and squeezed him gently. “You really are dumb, huh?”

Fry’s face flamed harder as he nodded again. 

“So...you uh.” Kif coughed. “Well, that is, um.”

Amy sighed. “Seriously?”

Fry swallowed and looked up at her. “Um. Yeah, I...yeah.”

Amy pouted. “We dated a  _ month _ , and you gave me boring vanilla sex the whole time and we could have been doing  _ that _ ?”

Fry blinked slowly. “You’re...mad that I was...boring?”

Amy huffed and plopped down, taking a pull of her drink. “I mean, yeah, do whatever, but if I’d known you were holding out on me, I’d have been way more pissed about breaking up.” She started to take another drink and considered. “No, I’m pretty mad now, as it is.”

Larry eyed him. “I thought you worked with her?”

Fry sighed and let his head fall back. “I am not a smart man,” he said plaintively.

Amy cocked her head. “So...I’m guessing it’s a secret?”

Fry shrugged. “It was.”

Amy blushed. “Ok, I...guess I do tend to um. Spill the beans.”

Fry sighed and curled into Larry a little. “Yeah.”

“So, uh...wanna do it?”

Fry blinked and looked at her, then at Kif. “Seriously?”

Amy shrugged. “Beth here would love to get up your ass, and I like pounding boys as much as the next girl.”

“Uh.”

Kif smiled. “Oh, don’t mind me. I worked through my jealousy a while back. Now I just want my little sugar doodle to have what she needs.”

Fry’s brain was spinning, and he looked at Larry. “Um. I, uh…”

Larry chuckled. “By all means. I’m not greedy, and you gave yourself a lot of ass.”

Fry blushed furiously. “Um. Sure?”

Five minutes later he was on the platform again, getting railed up the ass by a goth girl, while Amy pinned his head between her legs, fucking his throat with a cock she’d sprayed on. His head was spinning and he ran his hands over her body, admiring the tight curves and soft skin as much as he had the last time they’d done it. 

He jumped as he felt a soft, velour touch on his back and looked up and to the side to see Kif had lost the codpiece and was hanging loose. He lacked balls, which was a weird look, but the thing between his legs was ridged and rippled, looking soft and firm at the same time. He was stroking it slowly, and Fry blushed furiously. 

Amy giggled as she reached out, running her finger along it. “Really? You don’t normally play with my playmates,” she teased.

Kif shivered. “He’s just...weirdly pretty. And I know him, so…”

Amy smiled and ran her fingers through Fry’s hair. “Wanna play with Kif?”

Fry nodded hurriedly, and a second later, Beth had pulled out of his ass, and his eyes crossed as something cool, pulsing, and squirmingly alive entered him. He squealed and bucked and Amy laughed breathlessly. 

“Oh, yeah, Kiffy is great,” she crooned, using his hair and her dick down his throat to pound him back onto her fon fon ru. “Mmm, yeah, take him!”

Fry shivered as Beth plopped down next to him and pulled her dildo aside. She grabbed his fingers and Fry shivered as she stuffed them into her cunt. He felt around and quickly found the spots she wanted hit, mostly because she aimed him right at them, and she was soon rocking and moaning along with them. 

He felt a shiver run though him as Amy sped up, slamming into his throat, groaning as her fake cock jerked and jumped. Behind him, Kif was also starting to speed up, and he had a heady realization that they were going to cum together. 

Amy buried her cock in his throat at the same time as Kif slammed home, and Fry shivered as he felt hot liquid pouring down his throat and cool goo squirting up his guts. Kif’s cock seemed to writhe in him as he came, and Fry’s eyes crossed as he fired off into his thong, just a dribble, but still a nice orgasm. He moaned as Beth came a half a minute behind, and then sat up as they pulled out of him. It hadn’t been...well, it hadn’t been Larry, but it had been fun.

“Damn,” Fry said softly.

Amy grinned. “Yeah, we should do that again some time when you’re not, you know, two down.”

Fry licked his lips, mind whirling. “Uh. I think Leela might be...upset about that?”

Amy snorted. “Yeah, probably. Bossy boots gets weird about shit.”

Fry smiled a little. “But, um. Yeah. I’d be willing, I guess, as long as she’s not, you know, dating me.”

Amy grinned. “Clool.”

Fry slipped down off the platform, leaving Amy to go for more debauchery, finding Larry where he’d left him. He plopped down and took a sip of beer, blushing. 

“That was fast,” Larry said, reaching down and running a finger over the wet spot on his thong. 

Fry grinned. “I mean, I got the best sex ever right before, and Amy’s um...really, uh…”

Larry snorted. “I’ve been with her. She kinda goes all night long, huh?”

Fry nodded. “Yeah.”

“So, best sex ever?”

“Um. Yeah. I’ve never really fucked a guy that knew how to...well, fuck.”

Larry chuckled. “You poor, deprived boy.”

Fry laughed softly. “Yeah. I guess...yeah.”

Larry smiled. “Walk home, or?”

“No, I…” Fry took a deep breath. “I’m probably gonna clean up and go home as um. Well, as my regular self.”

“I don’t mind, but I understand if you don’t want to show me that,” Larry said quietly.

Fry stared at his beer. “I’m not...I look really different.”

“And that’s fine, like I said. Can I give you my number, though?”

Fry nodded, and blushed as Larry checked that his arms weren’t covered in spray, then wrote a number down his forearm with a pen. He glanced at it, his eyePhone taking a picture, and smiled. “Thanks.”

Larry grinned as he watched the other man stand up, reaching out to give his ass a squeeze. “Call me, ok? Coffee, walk in the park, wild crazy sex, whatever.”

Fry laughed and nodded, slipping out of the bar. He stepped into an alley and pulled out the little can from his purse, spraying himself down so the whole illusion melted away. He stood there for a moment, feeling more naked than usual, and then sprayed on his regular clothes. He checked himself in a dark shop window, nodded, and headed home. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm drawing partly on the comics, which may or may not be canon, but frankly if you watch the show with any eye, Fry has some deep seated gender issues, and i do so love to play with them.


End file.
